Aug
11
Dear Liesl,
The beginning of your Freshmen year in college, I was working as a student advisor for your class. As a Sophomore student advisor, I worked closely with other Freshmen in my respective dormitory to help them adjust to college and answer questions.
You weren’t in my dorm: the first time I saw you, you were hanging out with some new acquaintences you made on the campus green during a field games night. My fellow advisors and I were in charge of motivating the Freshman class to play camp style games, like water balloon toss, Captain’s orders, wheel barrow racing, etc.
You caught me eye as a pretty, attractive girl; who seemed very comfortable with herself, happy, energetic, and relaxed. At the time, I was dealing with relationship issues from my Freshman year, and didn’t even think to introduce myself. I was embroiled with emotion over a girl I attempted to date, but who instead decided to string me along while she continued a relationship with an “ex” high school boyfriend.
So, I just decided to remember your face, because I didn’t know who you were at the time.
The school year began and everyone fell into the routine of college life. For much of my Sophomore year, I was still working out many other relationship issues, and did not give myself permission to meet others. Once in a while I saw you walk by in the school cafeteria, on the sidewalk, or at the gym when I was finishing up track practice.
Come my Junior year, I finally figured out your name by chance. I think I heard it in the cafeteria when you were eating with your friends one day. It was nice to put a name with a face. After that, I asked people I knew if they knew you, and some mentioned you were in Psychology class. They only knew you by your first name. Our school, however, was fairly small and it was easy enough to figure out the rest of your name flipping through the campus directory.
I guess what stopped me from ever just approaching you out of the blue was the way the school social system worked. It seemed people tended to float in circles, tied closely to their dorm-mates, sports team members, or through other campus activities. Further, since I was studying Economics and Music, you didn’t frequent any of the academic halls I used, so the opportunity to meet you in the usual way people meet in college never really presented itself.
Instead, I did something rather stupid, in part because I was completely socially inept. One day, after days of mulling over just how I could meet you, I decided to program your school email address into my AOL instant messenger list. Like magic, your screen name popped up, and I saw you online every once in a while.
Being the shy and reserved person I was, I thought that introducing myself over instant messenger, under false pretences, would somehow serve my foot-in-the-door to get to know you. So, I double clicked your name and typed a messege asking if it was “Liza” ( mis-spelled on purpose ) on the other end. You replied, “No, this is Liesl - who are you?…How did you get my screen name?”.
Right away I knew I had blown it. Mind you, this was before I was diagnosed with BPD, so this pseudo-stalking way of trying to meet someone was somewhat hard wired into my brain, and I didn’t know better. I sincerely apologize for that, and have always felt I should have been more confident ( not to mention more “normal” ) and simply said “Hi” in the school library or something.
The second half of my Junior year - your Sophomore year, our college always threw a big winter party. The student center was covered with decorations, live bands were hired, and plenty of alcohol and beverages were on hand. Each year, when the college throws this party, everyone comes out and ends up in the student center evetually - usually in the main large ballroom dancing and having a good time.
It was a moment during this particular night that I saw you dancing with a couple friends. Before the dance, I had consumed some licquor - enough to loosen me up, but not to intoxicate me - and I was feeling a little more upbeat, confident, and social as a result.
You had a beautiful long black dress on. After getting my courage up, I made a point to walk by and say “Hi”. You replied “Hi” back to me, and you smiled.
I said, “You look very beautiful tonight”, and you said “Thank you… you don’t look so bad yourself”. I laughed a little and smiled back, but your friends beckoned you to join them at the punch bowl so we naturally parted ways.
When I look back at my favorite “inter-personal” moments in college, this one was definitely one of my favorite: a completely natural, carefree exchange, that instantly opened up a whole new avenue of possibilities. Often in life it is small events that change the course of how we live, and for that instant we connected, I was hoping somehow that we could get to know each other further.
After this night, things continued in the same manner in terms of school and social life. At the end of my Junior year, we had crossed paths a couple times walking around campus, but eventually I think you forgot who I was and just smiled politely when I said “Hi”. As a result, I accepted that one moment we shared as just a spark, a passing flame, of possibility.
This was cemented by the fact that I later discovered you were seeing someone on campus, which continued into my Senior year. I had a tumultous transition from my Junior year to Senior year, and my BPD, bouts of depression, and frequent losing trips to the area casinos had me way under the bus. I was penniless, hopeless, and just trying to keep things together.
To make money, I took a job working in the school bar, under a nickname “Bobbo the bartender”. I worked on Saturday nights, and every once in a while, you’d come in with your friends and sit down at a table. Even though I knew that you were involved with someone else, I was always happy to see your face, just because it brought up pleasant memories and a little infatuation.
Sometimes, you came to the bar to order for you and your friends, and I was happy to be of service. You jokingly called me “Bobbo” a couple times, requesting that “Bobbo” get you a pitcher of beer for your table. Naturally I smiled back and obliged, and felt that sense of hope and longing I had felt before.
I knew, however, that as my Senior year came to a close, time was up. I had to move on to find work and forge my own life. I had never stepped up to the plate and introduced myself, in part because I knew you were dating another guy, and I simply had to put my feelings and thoughts aside as good memories of my college experience.
I’m not sure if you ever put together all our interactions: from the random AOL Messenger intro, to the Winter Formal “You look beautiful exchange”, to asking “Bobbo”, your friendly campus bartender, for some beer. Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t - it doesn’t matter now anyway.
Last I heard, you were engaged and then married to a lucky man…..
Everytime I remind myself of these memories, I always have to put things in perspective: it’s one thing to like someone, introduce yourself, and find out if it will work; but it’s a completely different thing altogether to never really pony up and put it all on the line. This trend was characteristic of many of my romantic infatuations, where I watched from a distance thinking of what could be, all the while never really attempting to make my thoughts reality.
Who knows? We may have had a good relationship, or it may have been a bad relationship. Again, that doesn’t matter now anyway. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that if I had to do it all over again, the moment we connected at that Winter dance night, I would have made it a point to follow up and see if there was a chance for anything more. That way, I could satisfy myself and bring some sort of closure to that “longing” feeling people experience before they start or don’t start an actual relationship.
I imagine you’re happy now, and all is well. I’m happy you’re happy.
And, if by any chance, you ever read this letter, you must know that my intentions were nothing but benign and in some ways acts of a true crush that was never really tested. Instead of actually putting it on the line with you, I chose to live in la-la land and not in reality.
The thing about life, love, and relationships is that there’s time for fantasy, there’s time for reality, and there’s time for action. In many ways I came to experience all three of these revelations - just not in the manner in which we could have gotten to know each other better.
Wishing you best of health and happiness…
Sincerely,
Fellow Camel ‘02 a.k.a. “Bobbo” the bartender
What a beautiful story. I often feel that aching loneliness too.
I feel your pain. I’ll never see her again, and I never said a word to her. She didn’t pay me attention anyways.